Comfort
by BreeMaggs
Summary: Hermione receives comfort from an unlikely source. Dramione. One-shot.


a/n: Okay! This is my first adventure into Harry Potter fanfiction, despite being a seasoned fanfiction author. I hope you all enjoy this story and if you do, drop a review for me! I'm sure it's a little OOC, but bear with me.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Comfort

Draco had had a shitty day, to say the least. Everything that could go wrong, had. And now, all he wanted to do was crawl into bed and forget every blessed thing that had happened throughout the course of the day. But, of course, before he could just that, he had to make his way there. Which was proving a challenge.

From annoying first years flooding the halls to professors with constant questions, he was making slow progress. He fought back a frustrated groan and carefully excused himself the conversation that he had been reluctantly pulled into. His patience was growing thin as he once again began his trek across the castle grounds towards the dungeons.

He was almost there. Another five minutes and he'd be free to his own devices for the rest of the evening. He could do that. Five minutes he could manage. But even as he was telling himself that he was practically golden, he heard it. Someone was crying. He stopped suddenly, his ears trying to pick up the sound again. And there it was. Soft, feminine crying. So quiet he had to strain to hear it, but once had had, it was plain as day to him. He knew he hadn't imagined it.

 _Leave it alone_ , he told himself. He'd had a bad enough day as it was. Did he really want to subject himself to the mindless sobbing of some brokenhearted nimwit? His feet had other plans, though. They were moving him towards the source. He found himself standing outside of a broom closet, of all things. But that's where the noise seemed to be coming from.

Sighing ( _why, oh why, hadn't he just kept going?_ ), he swung the door open. What he saw shocked him. Granger, sitting on a pathetically small stool in the middle of the closet. And she was positively sobbing. She started when he opened the door, her hands flying to her face as if it could hide the evidence of her emotions.

"M-Malfoy, what do you want?" she stuttered out, swiping at her cheeks furiously.

He wanted to be mad. He wanted to make a biting remark about how he'd hardly planned to intrude on her sob fest, but found himself unable. Despite everything, he'd always been a little soft where she was concerned. Sure, he called her a hundred different hurtful names, but he'd never meant it. And he knew he'd never made her cry.

The anger he felt at the sight of her tears surprised him. He knew he had never hated the girl, but he'd never felt any particular fondness for her, either. So he was surprised by the depth of his anger. He found he wanted to throttle whoever had reduced this strong girl to the weeping pile he saw in front of him.

Instead, he pushed it down. There would be time for that later. But for now, there were more important things to attend to. He dropped his bag and shut the door behind him, ignoring her sputtering protests. He bent down in front of her and swept her bangs away from her eyes.

"Wh-what-" she started, so confused she could barely speak.

"Shh," he said. "I'm not going to torment you, if that's what you're worried about."

And then he completely shocked her by wrapping his arms around her and encouraging her to have a good cry. Even though she'd been crying so hard she couldn't breathe just moments ago, she found herself unable to produce the tears once more.

"I don't understand," she said softly.

"I don't either," he admitted, rocking her gently. "Just... just go along with it?"

She nodded and hesitantly wrapped her arms around his torso. Hadn't she been wishing for a warm body to comfort her just mere minutes before he arrived? However, she had rather thought that it would be Ron to appear and comfort her as he had been the one to reduce her to tears. He owed her an apology and she had expected him to hunt her down to deliver it.

But instead Malfoy had shown up and done the comforting. And she had to admit, as much as she didn't want to, it felt _good._ Malfoy's body was hard and lean and cradled her body perfectly. She sniffed slightly and buried her head further into his neck. She felt him stiffen when he wet cheeks touched his neck, but he relaxed after a brief moment.

She allowed herself a few more minutes indulgence in this strange occurrence before she started to pull away. She felt his arms fall away from her and his face came back into view. His dove gray eyes were silently asking her if she was okay, if she was ready to be let go. She nodded ever so slightly, not completely sure if it was true, and let her own arms come back around herself.

"He's not worth it, Granger," he said roughly, swiping a finger down her still wet cheeks.

She blinked up at him. "How...?"

He didn't answer, choosing instead to pick up his bag and stand up. He gave her another look, watching her as she watched him. Relieved that the sadness had fled her eyes, he gave her his signature smile. And, as he had hoped, she smiled back at him, albeit weakly. It was better than nothing.

"I mean it," he said, opening the door. "Don't waste your tears on him."

"How do you know that?" she asked. "That he's not worth it, that is."

"Anyone who makes you cry doesn't deserve you," he told her, his eyes flaring to life.

She waited for him to elaborate, but that was all he said. He broke their stare and walked through the door. Gathering her wits, she stood up and caught the door before it swung shut behind him.

"Thank you," she called to his back. He lifted a hand in acknowledgement, but didn't reply, lost in his own thoughts.

He was already busy planning all the ways he could end Weasley's life.

a/n: What did you think? Let me know!


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